Is it a betrayal if?
by AnnieXMuller
Summary: A To Love and Die in LA what if fic. What if: Castle was still on the couch. Would Kate have cheated on Josh? My take on a much pondered question.


**A ****_To Love and Die in LA_**** what if fic. **

**What if: Castle was still on the couch. Would Kate have cheated on Josh? My take on a much pondered question. **

* * *

It was all such a bad idea, staying in his hotel room, letting him get so close when her wounds were still so raw.

In the safety of the bedroom, the solid door between them, her emotions swirl a cloud of confusion within her. She shouldn't, oh how she shouldn't, but she _needs_ to go back in there. It had become just a little too dangerous, his soft gaze on her, that smile with more than just a hint of love, and so she had walked away.

She could go back in there, sit back down next to him on the couch, and talk it out. These questions he shouldn't ask, the answers she shouldn't admit to, all the things that constantly go unspoken, they could talk - for once. She trusts herself, trusts him. They can be adults.

Her fingers curl around the door handle, the hard cool metal pressing sharply into her palm, and she pushes down, opens the door, and meets his eyes.

He's still on the couch, his eyes still trained on the once closed door to her room, his line of vision high enough that the first thing he sees when the door suddenly opens are her wide, shining eyes. She ignores the confusion in his eyes, the deep lines in his forehead, and the thin line of his mouth; she sucks in a deep breath, and wills her legs to move her forward.

She marches back over to where he sits on the couch, all confident and poise when inside she's a mess. "Castle," she begins to say, at the exact same time he asks, "Kate?" and they both stop, shake their heads, gesture with a flick of a hand for the other to go first. And it's awkward as hell.

Her hands run down her thighs, nervously smoothing down the clingy, tight fabric of her leggings, before she sits, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She turns to him, her hands now clasped on her lap, and she squeezes them down between her knees to keep from fidgeting. It had all played out so differently in her head just moments earlier. She had rushed into the room, grabbed his hand and pulled him from the couch, and with her lips fused with his she had walked them back into his room, and not a word had been spoken.

But words were needed. Those actions were not.

_Is it still cheating if it's only in your head?_

A short, soft laugh escapes her lips, little more than an expulsion of air ever so slightly tinged with mirth. "It is exhausting working with you," she begins slowly, each word clear and precise. She knows he will look insulted, so she keeps her eyes trained on her knees, on the hands she had squashed between them. "To stay in control, to keep you under control, takes all the energy I have. Every single day." She closes her eyes, because she is being more honest with him now than she ever has and she can't face him now. She breathes deeply, ignores the shuddering exhale and prays he does the same. "I want..." She trails off. Bravery gone, she can't push the words out.

His hand settles lightly on her thigh, just barely applying pressure but enough to snap her eyes open and force her to meet his gaze. "What do you want, Kate?"

He is using her first name, in a voice so soft, so full of love, and she can't think, let alone speak. When did she start allowing that word, _love, _into her mind, and into her heart? A word she should have held only for another man. "It doesn't matter, Castle," she replies in a hushed tone. "I'm with Josh."

"Is that why you walked away?" His hand leaves her thigh, gestures to her bedroom, then clenches into a fist and falls to his own lap.

She follows his hand as it moves, watches his fingers tighten, sees the resignation in a simple movement as it drops to his thighs. She swallows thickly, and nods.

"Then why did you come back?"

He's confused, hurt, waiting to be shot down again. Waiting for her walk away. Again. Kate feels tears pricking at her eyes. Since when did she cry over relationships? Since she was contemplating ending one that was growing stale for one she craves so badly it keeps it up at night. That was when.  
"It's hard to keep you at arms length sometimes."

"Always," he replies. He's keeping his distance on the couch, not leaning into her, and not touching her anymore.

"But right now the timing-"

"Is off, I know," he finishes for her. "When isn't it?"

She releases her hands from between her knees, and moves one up to rake through her hair, pulling thick handfuls of it back away from her face. Her hand rests on her neck, still clutching tightly at her hair, and her elbow drops, brushing the side of her breast, while her now downcast eyes struggle to hold back the tears. Castle could be running his hands through her hair, brushing fingertips along her breasts, and kissing away the pain from losing a friend, a mentor, and almost-lover. But here they are, discussing it more openly than they ever have - and she is with Josh.

_Why is she still with Josh?_

"You're hurting, Kate. You try to hide it, but I see it all." He reaches for her hands, sensing the moment is right, hoping that she won't take a swing at him for it. He covers the one still resting on her lap with his, while he gently untangled her fingers from her hair, and with a soothing touch brings it back down to her lap. He holds both her hands, in a manner that might have otherwise been awkward, but is now heartfelt and warm.

A tear threatens to slip down her cheek, the first of what she knows will be a deluge if she allows herself to cry. She has kept her grief for Royce's death inside too long, she knows, but she holds it back just a little longer. "I'm not hiding it anymore," she says in a tone so low she barely hears herself speak.

"Just let me be here for you. Accept the comfort I am trying to give you. Stop being so stubborn."

She blinks back her tears, steadies her breathing, and purses her lips. What is he suggesting? Is she not already? Simply by returning to the room, allowing him to hold her hand as he is doing now, is she not already accepting his need to comfort her? She struggles silently with how to interpret his words.

He releases her hands and stands, turning away from her and walking towards his bedroom uncharacteristically silent. He stops just inside, turns back to her, and speaks the words she has already heard in her mind. "My door is open."

With those four words, he does as he has promised, leaving one door wide open, and moves to the far side of the room. He is out of sight, but she can hear the rustling. She hears the familiar sound of clothing being removed, of shoes coming off and dropping to the floor, of zippers being released. The sound of a bed being prepared for sleep follows, then a soft creak of springs.

Kate sits hunched over on the couch, elbows on her thighs, head in her hands. Still she refuses to cry, despite the tempest swirling within her. It feels like cheating. Crawling into bed with the man she cares more deeply for than her own boyfriend? To be pressed against his side, even if all they do is sleep. It feels like a betrayal.

Pushing off the couch, she has to at least tell him why she won't be sleeping beside him this night. She stops at the open door, finds him sitting in bed arranging the pillows behind his head, and meets his eyes in the dimly-lit room. "Castle I ca-"

"It need be nothing more than a hug, Kate," he interrupts her. He stops fussing with the pillows, and settles back. "An embrace for a friend in pain." He extends an arm as if to show her he means it, to prove it is all innocent.

"A horizontal hug in bed," she replies dryly, leaning against the door frame, her arms folded across her chest.

"My intentions are pure." The usual leer is missing, his tone honest and open. He's wearing a t-shirt, and while beneath the sheets his body is hidden she assumes he has something on.

She gives in just a little.

She closes the door quietly behind her as she enters his room, makes her way soundlessly to the empty side of the large bed. She clasps the sheet in her hand, poised to pull it down, when she hesitates. She stand stock-still, cotton sheet grasped in her fist, and her wide eyes lock on his. Her lips part, but they feel chafed, her whole mouth feels dry, and she doesn't dare speak the words haunting her now. Instead, she licks her lips, rubs them together, and tries to swallow down the lump of betrayal suffocating her.

_If it really is just that innocent, then why does she feel like she can no longer breathe?_

He shifts position slightly, turns to her, the sheet dipping low around his waist, and sliding to one side. Her gaze lowers, follows the moving sheet, focuses on the waistband of his boxers. She moves her gaze back up to meet his eyes, and she knows he sees the fear in hers; the bedside lamp illuminates just enough of her face to show she is silently freaking out.

"You're not cheating, Kate," he says softly, his tone gentle. "You won't allow that, and neither will I. You came back out of your room because you don't want to be alone tonight, and company is all it needs to be."

Comfort.

Friends.

Two friends providing comfort.

Except he is a friend she knows cares deeply for her; he is a friend she is falling in love with.

Giving in just a little more, despite how wrong it should feel, she slips under the sheets, and curls onto her side, facing away from him. "I really was in love with him. Royce, I mean. Once, so long ago, he had my heart completely." She speaks to the darkness, tries to forget he is behind her, almost touching but not quite.

"It hurts," he replies gently. "I know."

She nods against the pillow, now slightly damp from the few tears she has allowed out. She feels his hand between her shoulder blades, rubbing away the tension, helping her through the pain, and she tries to not react to his touch. She tries, but fails, to suppress the small shiver that spreads out through her body. She feels warm, loved. She feels more than she has during more intimate moments with Josh in her bed.

The mattress dips, and she hears him shuffle closer to her. His movements are slow and cautious, and despite everything she smiles slightly.

"Are you in love with Josh?"

Her smile fades. His body is so close to hers now, his hand is curled at her waist, his breath on her neck. So close, so intimate, asking questions he shouldn't.

"That's none of your business," she lies. It _is_ his business; she has all but told him if she wasn't with Josh she would be with him. She knows the answer, of course, but she refuses to include Castle in on her little secret, not when Josh deserves to be told first. "No more questions, Castle," she tells him gently.

His arms tighten around her, drawing their bodies together, until he is pressed up against her back, his fingers drawing lazy circles on her arms.

She gives in completely, relaxing back against him. She lets him hold her, doesn't move away when his face rests so close to hers his nose bumps her neck a few times. She lets his arms hold her securely to him, and his hands rest on her arms and never stray.

She refuses to acknowledge the warmth that spreads through her from his touch, the way her heart is beating just a little harder, a little faster, and bursting with love for him. She also refuses to give into the need to turn in his arms, press her lips to his, and whisper words so long suppressed.

She will dream of straying hands, of fused bodies and hot open mouths - of a man with a face that isn't her boyfriend's.

_Is it a betrayal if it's only in a dream?_

* * *

She slips out of his arms before dawn, quietly extracting herself from his embrace, from his body still pressed to hers. With slow, fluid movements, she eases away from him, and silently leaves the room. She showers thoroughly, the hotel amenities enough to wash away the gentle scent of him. He clings to her still, his scent, wrapping around her like a comforter in winter, keeping her safe and warm. She inhales him, and it makes her want to reach for her phone, call her boyfriend, and end a relationship. It makes her want to do things she shouldn't do on while the opposite side of the country, to say things that should be said to Josh's face. So she washes it all away, the smell of him, the thoughts and the urges. She stands under the hot spray of the hotel room's luxurious shower, and lets it all just flow down the drain and out of sight.

Dressing in jeans and a simple white shirt, knowing how well the jeans cling to her curves, how tight the t-shirt really is, and aware there is absolutely nothing simple about the outfit, she organizes a board to be delivered to the room, and buries herself in work.

When Castle finally rouses, she plasters a smile onto her face, pushes the guilt down, deep inside, and acts like nothing out of the ordinary occurred last night.

_Then why does it still feel so wrong?_

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading my angsty little _what if_ fic that looped around to meet back up with canon.  
**

**I recently read a fic where Kate slept with Castle while in a relationship with Josh, and she did so without giving a damn for Josh's feelings. It didn't sit right with me. Kate's not a cheater IMHO. And Castle wouldn't let her go through with it even if she was. So that's what inspired this.  
**


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